A/N: We've got a double shot of Dean to finish this up. I feel horrible about not staying on track and getting this up yesterday but lack of sleep thanks to a sick puppy finally caught up with me. The final chapter will go up after a short intermission.

This wasn't part of the plan either, which is what I think what really killed it yesterday. You should be reading a conversation between Dean and Sam where Jo overhears all but the last part - Dean's confession. But I was talking to my best friend about this story and the subject of giving a woman flowers came up. Given our shared allergy issues the last few weeks, this seemed a more appropriate piece for Silverspoon's birthday puzzle.

Special thanks to stephaniew for her help and support. Steph has been a real trooper finding ways to work in betaing and helping with ideas in the middle of a hectic work schedule. She's an amazing friend and a talented writer. Check her out and join her for her latest story 10 Ways Dean Winchester's Been Kissed!

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.

You, Don't Bring Me Flowers Anymore!

Dean stretches. Well, he stretches as best he can given the dead weight of the blonde hunter sprawled over his sleeping appendage. He smiles at her as a snort escapes thinking of times he's worked himself out of exactly this situation with other women.

Jo is perfectly peaceful...except for the trucker-like snoring and slight trickle of drool. The fact that these things make him chuckle - that his heart leaps within his chest and the label 'Mine!' pounds through his veins - only confirms that his feelings are real. For a moment, he considers shaking her awake or kissing her into consciousness, his heart filled to bursting with love for this woman.

But he stops. He knows all too well the hangover she'll likely be suffering from. Knows that the pain of a throbbing head will ruin the moment. Jo deserves a moment, he thinks to himself. And, dammit, I'm gonna give her one...

He gently pulls his arm out from under her, strategically placing a pillow within her grasp. Tugging on his jeans, he grabs a t-shirt and slips from the bedroom. A grin pulls the corners of his lips up as a plan forms.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Supernatural ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In the kitchen, Dean fusses over a tray lined with hangover remedies. Alka Seltzer fizzes in one corner next to Bloody Mary and Hair of the Dog cocktails. Dry toast and a banana lean against the last of Ellen's homemade muffins.

"Oh, bless you for drinking this crap, Sammy," he laughs, pulling a bottle of Gatorade from the fridge. The last item in his quest located, he walks back to his supplies and places it next to the prize of the grouped items - the thing it took him the longest to collect and put together - a pitcher filled with wild flowers.

He'd get Jo rehydrated and fed. Then, while she rested some more, he'd run her a bath. There's a reason he can call chick-flick moments. He's watched a few. More than a few. And people think Sam's the romantic, he chuckles.

Pushing the door closed with his foot, he settles on the edge of the bed. "Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty," he says quietly. When her eyes flutter open, squinting against the sun, he beams at her. "There's my girl..."

"Dean?" she whispers hoarsely. "What time is it?"

Getting up, he moves to the window and adjusts the blinds. "That better?" he asks.

Jo struggles to push herself into a seated position, pressing a hand to her forehead and grimacing. "Just how much did I have to drink last night?"

Dean laughs. "You and Mr. Daniels were very good friends," he teases, rejoining her in the bed and settling the tray into her lap. "I've brought reinforcements."

She stirs the tomato juice with the stalk of celery. Her stomach churns at the thought of eating the muffin even though blueberry is her favorite. Her eyes begin to burn and her nose tickles.

"You brought me flowers," she says, forcing a smile. She reaches for the Bloody Mary, stumbling over the words as she continues. "Dean, umm...about last night..."

"Jo, I'm sorry," he starts. "I..."

"No, I'm..." She presses the back of her hand to her nose, drawing in a few deep breaths as the tingle becomes worse. "I'm...ahh...ahh...AH-CHOOO!"

The sneeze rattles everything on the tray. The glass flies from her hand, slashing Dean in a bath of tomato and vodka. The first is quickly followed by a second, upsetting more of the contents in her lap. "Dean, I..."

He grabs the tray and sets it on the bedside table before placing his hands on Jo's arms to steady her as she tries to catch her breath.

"Is that ragweed?" she asks.

"What?" Dean answers. "Ragweed? They're wild flowers, I picked them myself..."

"Get them out of here," Jo directs, her eyes beginning to leak. "I...I...ah...ah-choo!" She looks up at him, her brown eyes sad and puddling. "Please, Dean. NOW!"

Taking the tray, he heads down to the kitchen. He mutters under his breath as he enters the room, "Ruined, it's all..."

Sam chuckles. "What the hell happened to you? Attacked by a possessed tomato?"

Ellen lowers her coffee cup to the table and stands up. A smile touches her face as she joins Sam in his laughter before plucking the Gatorade from the tray and carrying it over to the sink. "Nice weeds," she teases, rinsing the bottle off and shaking her head. "I better go check on Jo."

Dean lets out a noise somewhere between a snarl and a frustrated whimper. "I thought they were wild flowers."